


let me hear your voice

by falloutmars



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Cute Ending, Dogs, F/M, Fluff, Meet-Cute, even if i do say so myself, little bit of angst for jughead, oh no someones at my door, sneaking a dog into an apartment that doesnt allow pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:07:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26897920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falloutmars/pseuds/falloutmars
Summary: Anyway, his father got arrested leaving Jughead with custody of their quote-unquotefamilypet, a scruffy sheepdog creatively named Hot Dog.He’s cute. Dogsarecute. That’s not the problem.Cutting to the chase, the problem is his new apartment building is strictly no pets allowed.Strictly.–or,sneaking a dog into his apartment comes with one surprise Jughead doesn’t expect.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 32
Kudos: 88
Collections: 8th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees





	let me hear your voice

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i am back with yet another meet cute. this time, we have dogs! dogs and betty? what more could jughead want?
> 
> i hope you like this!! 
> 
> check out my cover for this [here](https://fallout-mars.tumblr.com/post/631431392323043328/let-me-hear-your-voice-read-on-ao3-pairing-betty)

When Jughead signed a six-month lease on an apartment just outside of town, he was not expecting to have a dog. In fact, he did not _want_ a dog, not really. But of course life just has to throw unexpected and annoying obstacles at him. 

For example, the fucking dog.

Okay, sure, he didn’t want the dog. But he’d look after him. He loves dogs, but they’re such a tie and he really didn’t want that responsibility when some days he struggles to look after himself. Taking care of something that relies solely on you is daunting, to say the least, a step he would’ve preferred to take when the time is right and maybe when he had a solid companion to help with the care, but life for Jughead did not work like that.

The long-short of it is that exactly two weeks after he moved out of the trailer he shared with his waste of space father, the man only had to go and prove how much of a waste of space he really is by, once again, getting arrested for DUI. It just happened to be one too many times, landing him in hot water and back in prison. 

_Back_ in prison because when Jughead was 15 years old, his father was arrested and put away for armed robbery for 3 years, getting out just before his son graduated high school. He was out for a full three years in which Jughead had to suffer living in a fucking trailer with him until he saved enough money from the shitty job at the town’s cinema he worked at minimum wage just so he could afford six months rent to _get the fuck away from his father._

His dream was to go to college. He’d be the first Jones man to go, to study in the big city preferably, and he’d finally be happy. Ha, well that never happened. His crappy father had to ruin everything again and again and again. 

And that’s just the short story. If anyone Jughead trusts enough to tell asks him about his father, they’d better get comfortable for at least a few hours.

Anyway, his father got arrested leaving Jughead with custody of their quote-unquote _family pet_ , a scruffy sheepdog creatively named Hot Dog. 

He’s cute. Dogs _are_ cute. That’s not the problem. 

Cutting to the chase, the problem is his new apartment building is strictly no pets allowed. 

_Strictly_.

There are signs everywhere. Literally everywhere. Fines of up to ten thousand dollars are threatened, and even sometimes jail times. Which, ironically, would be quite funny. If one Jones man was inside for DUI and the other having a dog. 

Jughead doubts, highly doubts, that these threats are likely to be followed up. It’s a risk he didn’t think he’d have to take when he first signed that lease, but when you’re given precisely no warning, who is he to leave a dog homeless? Even if the rules don’t allow it. 

Sneaking Hot Dog up was more complicated than he thought. His building sometimes – but not always – has a doorman. Sometimes. But this ‘sometimes’ doesn’t seem to follow any sort of pattern, it’s just hit and miss, so he can’t rely on his two-week-old knowledge of that. 

At one point, after he’s walked Hot Dog around the park for as long as humanly possible while he’s trying to come up with a plan on the day of that fateful phone call, he contemplates ringing up Archie – his childhood best friend and the only person he trusts enough to have told the very long whole story to – and begging him to come up from Chicago just to cause a scene outside of his apartment to distract the doorman while Jughead sneaks Hot Dog upstairs. In the end, he decides that’s probably not fair and would take longer than he has. 

So, instead, he hangs around by his building – just around the corner so he’s out of sight – and waits. He just waits; he waits until he sees the doorman walk off down the street on his break. And he knows he’ll be gone at least ten minutes because Jughead remembers seeing him in the Starbucks three blocks away just yesterday. 

Who knew Starbucks would become such a vital part of his story?

Once he’s far enough down the street that Jughead is certain he won’t turn back, that’s when he heads in. By this time, it’s 8 p.m. and it’s getting dark, so both the street and inside his building are quiet. And surprisingly enough, he makes it up to the third floor and inside his apartment without encountering another human being.

As he closes the door behind him, he breathes a sigh of relief. Hot Dog jumps down from his arms, immediately running into his living/kitchen area and curling up on the sofa. His sigh turns into a small chuckle, with part of him glad to finally have company.

The first few hours are fine. The first few hours after his relief of actually getting Hot Dog upstairs are fine. In a surprising twist, Jughead kind of _likes_ having him here. As he types away at his laptop from his tiny desk by the window, Hot Dog’s snores fill the room. Eventually, he ends up curling into a ball by Jughead’s feet. Looking down, he can’t help but smile. 

Hot Dog has been with him through thick and thin, he’ll give the dog that much. Going to hell and back with his father, his only companion was this scruffy mutt. Leaving home and leaving Hot Dog was difficult, but having a dog of his own was just not right. 

Fate had different ideas though.

Maybe someone knew something. Maybe they knew how much he’d miss his companion, so they changed his course and forced them back together.

Either that or his father fucked up again. That in itself was inevitable, so perhaps Jughead should’ve predicted it.

Anyway, he spends the first evening with Hot Dog in his apartment writing and eating. It’s all good. The company is nice, and stroking him forces him into a calm trance which only helps them both to relax. 

Everything’s fine until bedtime. 

He’d planned feeding time, play-time, sleep time. All that is fine. Toys, food, treats, a bed, they’re all in his possession. But he did not plan for Hot Dog to be barking his head off to be let out.

Jughead lives in an apartment. On the third floor. 

_He has no fucking garden._

Hot Dog, a creature of habit, knew exactly when he wanted to go to bed. And going to bed means first going to the toilet. Or the dog equivalent: pissing outside. And being a Jones, bedtime is later than the average human being.

In other words, it’s midnight and Hot Dog won’t stop fucking barking. 

Jughead gets it. He needs to do his business. At home, the trailer he grew up in, he’d just open the front door, let the dog wander out, do his business, and he’d be back inside within minutes. Here, well, that just isn’t possible. 

In the back of his mind, Jughead wonders why he associates the trailer with _home_. Why, when thinking about what he used to do with Hot Dog, is he thinking of _home_. 

That, he decides, is an introspective thought to be had another day when his newly adopted dog isn’t waking up the whole building. 

So back to the problem at hand. He does, he supposes, have no other choice but to venture back downstairs.

Why didn’t he choose to move into the trailer to stay with Hot Dog instead of this way around? Oh yeah, that’s right. Because apparently that’s a fucking crime scene. DUI and is now under multiple drug charges? Jughead can’t keep up either. But that meant there was _no other choice_.

Ugh. If only he could be luckier. 

One of the pros of having a furry companion through life’s crap is the trust between them. It goes both ways, to be honest. Jughead trusts Hot Dog to never leave his side, and Hot Dog trusts Jughead not to let him down. But that trust can be exploited in times of need. Like now. 

What that _means_ is he can put Hot Dog in a fabric, open-topped bag that hides him enough that Jughead thinks he can get downstairs, past the doorman, and around the corner to let him out. _And_ back again. 

That is if there wasn’t a knock at the door when he’s chasing the dog around his apartment trying to put him in a bag. _Yeah_ , he can understand why this is difficult.

The knock at the door only serves to make Hot Dog bark louder and scare the shit out of him, forcing him into a state of panic where he is certain he has been caught and is about to get evicted and/or arrested. 

He’s _destined_ to join his father in prison, he’s sure of it.

“Shush!” he aggressively whispers to Hot Dog, not that he neither understands nor cares. Instead, he stares at Jughead, tail wagging and tongue hanging out as he prepares to bark again. 

The second knock on the door is louder and, unless he’s making things up, angrier. That’s when he decides he’s completely and utterly _fucked._

But he cannot delay answering it any longer. That only makes him look more suspicious. Well, with good fucking reason because he’s suspicious as fuck.

He shoves Hot Dog into the bathroom, which, thankfully, is far enough away from the door that his barks are distant and muffled. Good enough for him but decidedly _not good_ for his next-door neighbor. On the way to the door, he pushes any evidence of an animal in his apartment out of the view. Toys hidden around corners, his bowl pushed ever so slightly to the side, fur brushes off of his pants. 

After what could be considered far too long to answer the door (hey, maybe he was showering– wait, his hair is completely dry), he actually opens the goddamn door. 

(In his head, that comes out as _dog_ damn door, which would be more accurate.)

The thing is, he’s expecting the doorman. Tall, dressed in a suit, ridiculously large hat. (Seriously, you’d think this place was, like, _posh_ or something. Pfft, Jughead wishes.) Probably ready to throw all kinds of correct accusations around. 

That, however, is _not_ who he sees standing outside his door. 

In front of him is a woman he might recognize. Might because it’s likely his memory is failing him spectacularly and this woman is not his next-door neighbor also known as the person he has lowkey crushed for a while on from a distance or from their brief corridor encounters. 

Fuck.

He blinks a few times just to make sure he isn’t imagining things. Once his eyes adjust to their surroundings, he realizes his memory has not failed him. Of course it hasn’t. It wouldn’t fail to remember _her_. 

Okay, she’s pretty as fuck. And maybe it’s slightly weird for him to be thinking this about his neighbor but he has done for a while even if they’ve never formally met and he only knows her from walking past her when she’s going into her own apartment which is next to his because she’s his next-door fucking neighbor and _oh my god_. 

It’s likely that Jughead is freaking out. 

“Um, uh, hi,” he splurts out, embarrassing himself because he truly is a fucking idiot.

The woman he does not know the name of – okay, yeah, his _crush_ is weird – grins at him. “Hey. I’m from next door.”

He nods, sending a quick silent prayer that she cannot hear Hot Dog’s barking that may or may not be getting louder. But hey, if she’s here, at least she won’t be hearing him through the wall. 

“I’m Betty,” the woman offers in an upbeat voice that only confuses Jughead. If she’s about to yell at him instead of - or in place of? – the doorman, why is she being so… friendly? 

“I’m… Jughead,” he says slowly.

“Oh! Nice to meet you.” She’s smiling again, and as much as she has a really fucking pretty smile, he’s _confused_ , but then she continues talking and he’s entranced by her even if the words that come out of her mouth aren’t necessarily what he _wants_ to hear. “This might be a bit weird, but I heard barking.”

“Barking?” he half-exclaims as if he isn’t the one hiding a dog in his bathroom. 

This Betty laughs softly. “Yeah, you know, like a dog.”

He laughs at that, if only because he’s embarrassing himself further. “Oh. Yeah.”

“And… I know this building is pet-free.”

In a moment of madness, he confesses all. “I’m sorry. It’s me, I have the dog. He’s my dad’s dog but my dad can’t have him so now I have to take care of the dog and he won’t stop barking because he wants to go out but–”

“Jughead!” 

He stops. “Yes? Please don’t tell the doorman I promise I’ll be out of here as soon as possible.”

“Can I come in?”

God, if the only way to get a beautiful woman in his apartment is to break the rules then he sure is destined to be forever alone. 

Nevertheless, he steps aside. 

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of having this specific woman in his apartment before. What? He’s human. A _weird_ human. Never in a… sexual way, though. Just, he wanted to get to know her, be friends with her, that kind of stuff. His attraction to her played no part in his imagination. 

Having her here, leaning against the kitchen cupboards, under these circumstances is not what he imagined.

Hot Dog’s barking has turned into a quieter whimper now and Jughead is concerned that he’s pissed on the bathroom floor, but he guesses if that’s happened, he’ll have to deal with it. First, though, to deal with whatever the woman in front of him what’s to do with him.

“So,” Betty says, folding her arms, “where’s the dog?”

Jughead sighs, running a hand through his hair. He finds himself wishing his beanie was there, but he abandoned that a while back. “He’s in the bathroom.” Her face lights up but her arms stay folded across her chest. “Can I meet him?” He frowns. “You’re not gonna take him away, are you? I know I’ve broken the rules and I promise I’ll be out soon; it’s just this dog is my life and–” A soft chuckle interrupts him. “Relax,” she says with a smile, unfolding her arms. “I’m not here to rat you out or anything.”

Confused, he rubs the back of his neck and narrows his eyes at her. “What are you doing here then?”

“I want to meet your dog.”

Right. Because that totally clears up any confusion. “We’re not allowed dogs.”

She laughs again, a soft laugh that makes crinkles form at the side of her eyes. “No, I know. It’s really sad, isn’t it? I’ve lived here for a while and I’ve always wanted one but I’ve never had the heart to break the rules.”

“You… want a dog?” he says slowly.

“Yeah!” she grins. “I know it’s a little weird that I’m here asking to see your dog, but I just couldn’t resist.”

“You want to see Hot Dog?”

She gasps. “Oh my god. Is your dog _actually_ called Hot Dog?”

As if to agree, Hot Dog barks from the bathroom and Jughead laughs. “Yep. I’ll, uh, I’ll let him out if you’re sure?” He barks again, signally how much he wants that. 

Clasping her hands together, Betty nods. “Please do.”

On the short journey to the bathroom, Jughead half wonders whether or not he’s doing the right thing. This whole situation is, to say the least, a little weird. Sure, it’s no surprise that his next-door neighbor heard his barking secret, but for it to be the neighbor he thinks is cute as fuck and for her to come round to _see_ his dog and not to report him for breaking the rules… that’s where it gets weird. 

But… weird in a good way he hopes. He likes Betty already, despite everything. She seems like one of life’s genuinely lovely people, and her beauty just tops that off. So if her intentions are what they seem, he’s quite possibly in for a treat with this girl.

Letting Hot Dog out of the bathroom results in him speeding past Jughead and across the apartment towards Betty. Jughead just laughs at him, used to the ways of this mutt, and checks the floor for any accidents. Thankfully, there’s nothing, but that does mean he still needs to work out a way to get the dog past the doorman again.

Hmm. He wonders if Betty wants to help.

As he edges out of the bathroom and back towards the kitchen, he can hear her talking in a high pitched voice. “Oh! Hello!” she coos. “You’re so cute, Hot Dog, aren’t you?”

He recognizes it as a voice used to talk to either an animal or a child, mainly because it’s exactly the voice he usually talks to Hot Dog in. And, when he was younger, to his baby sister. He imagines one day it’ll be the voice he uses to talk to his own child.

(He doesn’t want to admit it, but there’s some very, very distant part of his brain that wonders – or possibly hopes – if that could be a child with the very woman using that voice in his kitchen.)

Wandering over to her, he smiles. She’s sitting on the floor with a dog toy on her lap and Hot Dog sitting in front of her, tongue hanging out. She has a grin on her face, seemingly very happy with herself.

“He found you then?” he asks, leaning on the arm of his couch. It’s a stupid thing to say. Of course he did. He’s _right_ there. Dumbass embarrassing himself even further. 

“He’s adorable,” she replies, scratching behind his ears. “Yes you are, Hot Dog, yes you _are_.”

In response, Hot Dog wags his tail even faster before launching himself at Betty, who squeals in delight, and licking her face. 

Everything about the scene in front of him is making him happy. Any worries he had previously have gone, for now at least. It’s just, Betty and Hot Dog look so happy together and that makes him happy. 

_In another world,_ he thinks, _in another world._

_In another world or perhaps this one?_

“So how come you’ve ended up with a dog then?”

He wonders if she’s being polite. He did, after all, half-confess his woes to her in a spiel earlier on. Or maybe she’s looking for a proper answer. Either way, but the time he goes to reply, she’s talking again.

“Obviously you don’t have to tell me.”

“No, no,” he says, flashing her a small smile. “I, uh–” he cuts himself off with a hollow laugh “–well, he’s my father’s dog, but, um, he’s just been put away. Again. DUI and drug charges means his trailer is out of bounds, hence Hot Dog being here.”

Betty nods along. 

“I got him up here, but I didn’t plan for taking him out before bed.”

She stares up at him. “Wait, how _did_ you get him past the doorman?” Jughead just shrugs. “Wanna help me do it again?”

.

.

.

“Hot Dog!” Jughead calls from the back door. “Hot Dog! Caramel! Come here, you two!”

In comes Hot Dog, ever the scruffy sheepdog, and bounding after him is Caramel, an even scruffier labradoodle puppy who runs up to her brother, trying to bite his ear. 

As per his girlfriend’s request, once they moved from the apartment building that didn’t _technically_ allow pets and into a house with a garden of their own, they got another dog. A puppy this time, one they chose together from a local rescue, one they named together, one that is _theirs._ That puppy happened to be Caramel, a bundle of joy and a pain in the ass for her older brother, Hot Dog. The two of them do get on amazingly well, though, even if sometimes Caramel’s energy is too much for him. 

Jughead can’t help but laugh at his two dogs, beckoning them inside and closing the door behind them. They run through the house into the living room, where he knows Betty is laying on the couch under a blanket. Through the walls, he can hear her use that cutesy voice as she talks to the two dogs, that voice he used to only dream of. Now he hears it every single day.

He couldn’t be happier.

_~fin_

**Author's Note:**

> ee! so what did you think? this style of meet cute with a jump forward in time is something new i tried and i really like it, so i hope you do too. 
> 
> i have far too many meet cutes acquired over lockdown writing so hopefully more coming soon.
> 
> thank you for reading! let me know your thoughts in the form of comments and kudos <3
> 
> and in the meantime, join me on [tumblr](https://fallout-mars.tumblr.com/).


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